


Rudyard Hates Storms

by heartofholtzbert



Category: Wooden Overcoats (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, Fear/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, chapyard, characters are trapped inside together during a storm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-07 15:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16856227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartofholtzbert/pseuds/heartofholtzbert
Summary: A terrible storm comes to Piffling Vale and Chapman is forced to ride it out with the Funns and Georgie inside Funn Funerals





	1. 1

The wind and rain had begun three days ago, and together they’d brought a halt to most of the outdoor activities in the village of Piffling Vale. Eric Chapman, the village’s most successful undertaker, had been forced to cancel two funerals which had been planned to take place on the beach and in a meadow, respectively. Petunia Bloom had been forced to abandon her flower stall due to it being blown away by the wind, almost taking her with it. Mayor Desmond Desmond had advised everyone to stay inside until the inclement weather passed, but it wasn’t until the third day that he officially enforced the curfew.

The announcement went out over Piffling FM. Jennifer Delacroix was in the middle of a weather report when she was interrupted by the Mayor.

“Attention, all residents of Piffling!” he cried. “I’ve been informed that the weather outside is potentially life-threatening, and we can’t possibly risk the lives of our people. Especially when Eric Chapman is fully booked for the next two weeks. So, I am telling you all, wherever you are now, stay there, and stay inside! Do not leave whatever building you are currently in! This is a matter of public safety.”

Rudyard Funn, listening to this announcement in his kitchen, sighed and switched off the radio.

“Well, I hope you’re happy now,” he said to his twin sister Antigone.

“What? Why?” she said.

“All those years you spent praying for a valid reason never to go outside finally paid off. And now we’re stuck in here for God knows how long.”

“Oh shut up, Rudyard,” she hissed.

On the table, their mouse Madeleine squeaked.

“Yes, don’t worry Madeleine, we’ll be safe in here,” Rudyard assured her. “At least we didn’t get stuck with an irritating client.”

“Where’s Georgie?” Antigone asked.

“No idea. I think she went home.”

Just then, the siblings heard a clatter from somewhere nearby. They both jumped.

“What was that?” Antigone asked, panicked.

“It sounded like it came from the mortuary,” Rudyard said. “Antigone, you made sure Mrs Heffernan was actually dead before you put her down there, didn’t you?”

“Yes, of course I did,” Antigone snapped.

“Well then,” Rudyard said. “Who made that noise?”

At that moment, they heard the door to the mortuary open and the sound of voices drifted in to them in the kitchen. Two voices to be precise. Two familiar voices. One belonged to their assistant, Georgie Crusoe, and the other belonged to -

Rudyard’s fist slammed into the table. “Chapman!”

“Yes, Rudyard?” came the answering call.

Georgie and Chapman walked into the kitchen, Chapman wearing his usual cheery grin, which caused Rudyard to grind his teeth in annoyance.

“Were you two… down there… together?” Antigone asked, looking at them.

“Yes, Georgie was just showing me the work you’ve done on Mrs Heffernan.”

“Georgie!” Antigone and Rudyard exclaimed together.

“Georgie, how could you?” Rudyard said. “You’re giving tips to our competitor?”

“In MY mortuary?” Antigone cried.

“I wasn’t giving him tips, guys,” Georgie said, calm as ever. “Eric wanted to read that raunchy book Antigone wrote with the vicar a while ago, and I know Antigone keeps a stack of them in the mortuary where she thinks it’s too dark for anyone to find them.”

“Georgie!” Antigone said, scandalised, blushing to the roots of her black hair. “What - why would you - how could you -”

“Relax, nearly everyone in Piffling’s read it,” Georgie said. “Eric just missed it last time and he wanted something to read to pass the time during the storm.”

“If that’s true then why did you show him Mrs Heffernan as well?” Rudyard demanded.

“I didn’t,” Georgie said. “He just said that because he was embarrassed about why we were really down there.”

“Thanks, Georgie,” Chapman said.

“No problem, Eric.”

“You… want… to read… my book…” Antigone was muttering, but no one was paying any attention to her.

“Well, this has been sufficiently awkward for one day,” Chapman said. “I’ll be heading back to my place now. Rudyard, Antigone, Georgie, Madeleine. Enjoy yourselves.”

“No, wait, you can’t go!” Antigone said.

“What? Why not?”

“The storm’s getting worse. We’re all supposed to stay inside, Mayor Desmond just said so. On the radio.”

“Hush, Antigone!” Rudyard said quickly. “Not to worry, Chapman, there’s nothing to fear out there. Just a brisk wind and a bit of drizzle. Nothing a tall, strong man like yourself can’t handle!”

“Tall, strong man?” Georgie repeated, raising her eyebrows.

“You know what I mean,” Rudyard snapped. “Anyway Chapman, you’d better get going, toodle-oo, have a good one -”

He tried to push a confused Chapman towards the door but Antigone grabbed Rudyard’s arm and tugged him back.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rudyard, he could die out there -”

“And then we’d be the only funeral directors on the island again, what a pity,” Rudyard said. “Let go of me, Antigone, let go - stop pulling my arm!”

“Shan’t!” Antigone said, continuing to pull.

“It does look pretty bad out there,” Georgie said, peeking out the window through the gap in the curtains. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe Eric should stay.”

“I can’t stay here all night!” Chapman said.

“Why not, eh?” Rudyard said. “Our house not good enough for you, is that it? We open our home to you out of the goodness of our hearts and you just -”

“You just tried to make me leave,” Chapman pointed out.

“Oh shut up, Mister I’m-Right-All-The-Time-And-Remember-What-Happened-Two-Minutes-Ago!”

“What?”

“Rudyard, that’s enough!” Antigone said firmly. “He’s staying until the storm passes, and that’s that.”

“Antigone -”

“No! I own half of the business now and that means I get to decide who we allow to stay with us while a devastating storm ravages the island.”

“I love it when she’s assertive like that,” Georgie said, to no one in particular.

“So we’re agreed then?” Chapman said. “You’ll let me stay so I don’t die outside?”

“Oh, if you must,” Rudyard said, with a theatrical sigh.

This was going to be a long night indeed.


	2. 2

“Now look here,” Rudyard said, looking around at the now crowded kitchen. “We can’t all just stand here all night.”

“Agreed,” Antigone said. “I’m going back to my mortuary. Goodnight to all of you.”

But just as she stood up, scraping her chair back from the table, the lights flickered and then went out. The room was plunged into darkness, and two people yelped at the same time.

“Who was that?” Georgie’s voice asked in the darkness.

“Madeleine,” Rudyard said quickly.

“Madeleine?” Georgie began scathingly, but Rudyard shushed her.

“Now what?” said Eric’s voice, and he sounded much less cheery than usual.

“Now we go about our night as usual,” Antigone said impatiently. “As I was saying, I’m going back to my mortuary to -”

“But we need light,” Eric said, a little desperately. “I can’t see a thing.”

“I can see perfectly,” Antigone said.

“Antigone, as we established the last time the power went out during a storm, you are the only one whose eyes have adjusted to see in total darkness,” Rudyard snapped. “The rest of us didn’t spend seventeen years in a mortuary, you know.”

“Oh yes, I forgot,” Antigone said. “Well, you bought some candles after last time, didn’t you?”

“Oh, thank God,” Eric said fervently.

“I thought you were going to buy them,” Rudyard said.

Antigone made a noise of frustration. “No, Rudyard, you told me you were going to.”

“Antigone, I think I would remember -”

“So there are no candles?” Eric interrupted fearfully.

“What’s the matter, Chapman? Not scared of the dark, are you?” Rudyard scoffed.

“Rudyard, last time there was a power outage you nearly tore my arm out of its socket,” Antigone said.

“What? No I didn’t, be quiet,” Rudyard said quickly. “Georgie, back me up.”

“I wasn’t there, Sir.”

“Right you are.”

“All right, enough!” Chapman cried. “We need light. Are you telling me there are no candles whatsoever in this entire house?”

“I suppose you’re going to tell us you have a whole room dedicated to storing candles over at Chapman’s?” Rudyard said in irritation.

“No, but I have a candle-making studio next to the bowling alley.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Okay, none of this is productive,” Georgie said. “You two are doing my bloody head in. If we’re going to be stuck here all night, we might as well stop arguing.”

“And what do you propose we do instead?” Rudyard asked.

“I, for one, am going back to my mortuary to finish embalming Mrs Heffernan,” Antigone said. “The rest of you may do as you please as long as you don’t come anywhere near me.”

“What about me?” Georgie asked. “I won’t distract you, I promise. You won’t even know I’m there.”

Antigone hesitated. 

“Yes all right, Georgie, you can come,” she relented. “But nobody else!” she hissed, pointing a warning finger at her brother and Eric in the darkness, which neither of them saw.

“Oh come on, you can’t possibly leave me alone with -”

“Oh yes I possibly can!” Antigone said. “Come on, Georgie.”

“Antigone.”

“What?”

“I still can’t see.”

“Oh.” She paused in the doorway. “Oh, yes.”

“So I’m gonna need your hand,” Georgie continued.

“My hand?”

“Would you prefer a different body part?”

“No, no, a hand is fine, perfectly fine,” Antigone said, flustered. “Here.”

She walked over to Georgie, stood beside her while Georgie blinked blindly into the pitch black, and reached hesitantly for her hand. Antigone wasn’t particularly accustomed to human contact. The last time she had held somebody’s hand was in the mine shaft with Eric, when she was sure they were both going to die. That certainty of impending death had propelled her, for once, to stop being afraid and to finally do what she had secretly wanted to do for ages.

But this situation was different. There was no mortal peril making things easier this time.

She took Georgie’s hand, her breath catching nervously in her throat as she did so. The other woman’s hand was warm and solid and firm. Holding it and trying to regulate her grip so that it was neither too loose nor too tight, Antigone slowly led Georgie from the room.

“Enjoy yourselves,” came Eric’s choked, quiet voice as they left.


	3. Chapter 3

Once Antigone and Georgie were gone, neither Rudyard nor Eric knew what to say.

“Well,” Rudyard said eventually. “I suppose you’d better sit down.”

“I already am.”

“Oh.”

Silence fell between them, thicker than the darkness that was all they could see.

“Really, Rudyard, how you could be so unprepared for something like this is beyond me. Especially when it’s happened before,” Eric said.

“Oh, and you were so prepared, were you?” Rudyard snapped. “Is that why you’re here in my kitchen instead of in your candle-making studio?”

Chapman didn’t reply and despite the circumstances, which were far from ideal, Rudyard felt smug. Any jibe that Chapman didn’t have a ready answer to was one to be proud of.

“I’m sorry, Rudyard,” Eric said, after a slight pause.

“What was that?”

“I said I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. You’re right, it’s not your fault we’re in this situation. I’m just a little uneasy, that’s all.”

“The great Eric Chapman, uneasy?” Rudyard said, but it didn’t bring him nearly as much pleasure as he would have expected.

“I said it once Rudyard, I won’t say it again.”

“Right,” Rudyard said. “Fair enough.”

Another silence descended upon them, and the longer it went on, the more uncomfortable Rudyard felt. He knew Chapman was still in the room with him, but when he wasn’t speaking it almost felt like he was alone. And as difficult as it was to admit, this was a particular moment in which Rudyard did not want to be alone. He would have preferred Antigone or Georgie’s company, of course, but for now he was stuck with Chapman.

“So, Chapman,” he said, a little desperately. “Why don’t you tell me one of your ridiculous stories to pass the time?”

“You want me to tell you a story?”

Rudyard couldn’t see Chapman, but he felt sure that the other man was raising his eyebrows.

“Well, seeing as you’re always so desperate to show off,” Rudyard said defensively. “This would be the perfect moment to do so.”

“Rudyard, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were feeling uneasy too.”

“How dare you.”

“You are, aren’t you?”

Rudyard felt himself going red, and for the first time he was glad to be in the dark.

“Now look here Chapman, it would take a lot more than a storm to make me -”

Thunder rumbled overhead, so loud that it seemed to rattle the ground like an earthquake, and Rudyard made an involuntary sound of fear. His fingernails dug into his palms and his heart thumped frantically.

“Rudyard?” Eric’s voice was quiet. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course I’m all right!” Rudyard tried to snap, but it wasn’t convincing.

“We’re safe in here,” Eric said.

“I know that.”

Rudyard was afraid that Chapman could hear his breath, ragged in his chest.

“Do you want me to get Antigone?” Eric asked.

“No, because she’s not my mother and I’m not six years old,” Rudyard said.

“You do have a mother then?” Eric asked. “You didn’t just spring into existence as a thirty five year old funeral director with bad posture and a knack for turning villagers into angry mobs?”

“Yes, I did have a mother, and how do you know my age?”

“Wait, you did?”

Rudyard paused for a moment before replying, “Yes, she’s dead now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Rudyard,” Eric said. “So is mine.”

At first Rudyard couldn’t put his finger on why Chapman’s words sounded so strange to him, but then he realised.

“Hang on,” he said. “That was a simple, straightforward fact about your past. You didn't just allude to something in a mysterious way and say it happened a long time ago."

“Yes,” Eric said thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. As a matter of fact, I’m not sure why I just told you my mother is dead.”

“I’m not sure either,” Rudyard said. “I’m hardly a licensed therapist, nor would I care to be one.”

Eric laughed. “Do you know, Rudyard, you’re really quite funny. In your own way.”

That had sounded suspiciously like a compliment. Rudyard squinted in the darkness.

“What game are you playing, Chapman?” he demanded.

Eric sighed. “No game, Rudyard. I was simply pointing out one of your positive qualities. But clearly you don’t take compliments very well.”

“Well, I…” Rudyard fumbled for words. “I suppose I’m not… accustomed to them.”

His voice was quiet but he was sure Chapman heard. 

“That’s a shame,” Eric said. “Because I genuinely have come to appreciate your sense of humour in the time I’ve known you. I just thought you might like to hear that.”

Something shifted in Rudyard. There was a strange sensation in his stomach that was very unfamiliar to him.

“I would,” he said quietly. “I mean, I did.”

And it was true; he had. For some bizarre reason, it mattered to him that Eric Chapman thought he was funny. Then again, it was probably Rudyard’s propensity to fail spectacularly at every turn that Chapman found amusing, not actually Rudyard himself. The thought made him strangely sad.

“I’m glad,” Eric said.

There was an expectant pause then, as if Chapman was waiting for Rudyard to say something. Rudyard felt awkwardly compelled to give Chapman a compliment in return for the one he’d given him. See, this was why he avoided niceties like this; they put one in such an uncomfortable position.

“Well, Chapman, you know, you’re quite, um…” Rudyard struggled. “Tall.”

“I’m tall?” Eric repeated.

“Yes. Haven’t you ever noticed?”

“Yes, I have, but I’m a little confused as to why you’re telling me.”

“Because it’s a compliment, Chapman, stop making it awkward!” Rudyard snapped. “You gave me one so I’m giving you one back. Now we’re even.”

“Oh. Well in that case... thank you Rudyard.”

Rudyard made a grunting sound that was supposed to convey “you’re welcome” in a grudging, non-verbal way.

In Rudyard’s top pocket, Madeleine squeaked.

“What did she say?” Eric asked.

“She’s hungry and would like some bread.”

That was a lie. What Madeleine had actually said was, “That’s twice tonight you’ve mentioned him being tall. Why do you fixate so much on his height?”


End file.
